


Don't Threaten Me With A Good Time

by Itch



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alcohol, Anal Sex, Angst, Body Shots, Comeplay, D/s tone, Feminisation, First Kiss, Fluff, Hair Pulling, M/M, Smut, Spanking, brah, cross dressing, gabriel in a dress, gabriel in high heels, god AU, i think??, lawyer!Sam, up against the wall sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-28
Updated: 2016-04-28
Packaged: 2018-06-05 01:37:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 17,291
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6684106
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Itch/pseuds/Itch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam is a lawyer for Carter and Nicks, one of the most prestigious in the county and he loves his job. There are only two things wrong with it in fact. The first is that it means he’s stuck in the city all the time, never able to get away and look at the stars, something he’s loved to do since he was a kid. And the other? His colleague Balthazar is a party animal. It was during one of these particular - and rather shit if he was honest - parties that Sam’s mind wandered all the way back to college, to minor gods and mythology, sparking his thought train to ‘I wonder if there’s a God of Raves and Good Times.’ </p><p>It turns out? There is. And his name is Gabriel.<br/>As a god of raves and good times, Gabriel takes it upon himself to change that night from yawn inducing hours and bad trance music to body shots, glow in the dark paint and hoarse voices in the morning. And as a man who hadn’t realised what he was missing till he’d had it, Sam takes it upon himself to bring the god back for more.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. You Called?

**Author's Note:**

> AY SO HERE'S MY RARE PAIR BIG BANG AND Y E A H HERE WE ARE so yeah uh this idea come from the P!ATD song and yes you're welcome and that's the title as well and here we gooo please enjoy the sin
> 
> ALSO BIG THANK YOU TO MY BETA JANIMOON SHE'S AMAZING AND WAS SUPER HELPFUL because I wrote most of this after being awake for too many hours and the amount of sense some passages made were virtually non existent lmao

Sam yawned. 

Of course, that wasn’t the most appropriate of responses to being at a party full of alcohol and hot girls, but the party Sam was at was _dull_ , or at least in Sam’s eyes it was. To be fair though, Sam thought reading books on law and ancient mythology was fun where most of the other party attendees would yawn and push the dusty looking books away.

There was some awful pulsing music that Sam decided was supposed to be trance, perhaps drum and bass, but it was doing nothing more than give him a pounding headache. It was the kind of thing a teen might have playing tinnily from their phone whilst sat at the back of a bus, not something Sam thought he’d hear coming from Balthazar’s high tech speakers, and there were a  _ lot  _ of girls trying to grind up against him. Sam wasn’t really interested in their short skirts and their whispers of ‘ _ I could give you such a good time _ ’ that did nothing for him but remind him never to drink WKD.  _ Ever. _

One such girl looped a hand around his waist and he carefully (but politely, Sam Winchester was nothing less than a  _ gentleman _ ) prised himself from her grip, ignoring the huff he got from her. To replace him, he spun her around and let her wrap herself around Inias instead. Inias was one of Balthazar’s work friends who he - Balthazar - had invited along. Inias seemed more than pleased to take the girl off Sam’s side, his arm going around her waist instantly, his beer bottle clinking against her own bottle of bright blue ‘alcohol’.

 “Sam! You made it!” a voice called and Sam stared ahead, regretting every life decision as  _ Balthazar’s _ arm was now around his waist, glasses clashing together in a messy version of cheers that sent some of Balthazar’s drink spilling to the floor.

 “You told me to come along. So I did.” Sam explained, swapping the hand he was holding his drink in, preferring it in the half pint glass rather than on his shoes. 

 “Yes well, usually when I invite you to these kind of things you tell me you have a… how do you phrase it… oh yes, a ‘prior engagement’.” The jeering tone in Balthazar’s voice made Sam growl inwardly. Yes, he did usually have a ‘prior engagement’. That being the Judge Judy recordings he’d set up over the day. What? Guilty pleasure. 

 “Well…” Sam wasn’t sure how to respond to Balthazar, especially not if the blond wanted the truth. So he lied. “Been sat at home on dating websites if I’m honest with you, buddy. Been feelin’ kinda lonely recently.” Okay maybe it was only a half lie.

 “Bro. How have you been feeling lonely when you’re in my apartment surrounded by some absolutely gorgeous chicks… and some of the guys are pretty darn hot if you ask me. Which you’re not. But y’know. If you swing that way.” Sam dodged Balthazar’s arm as he swung round in a gesture of ‘ _ look at all these people’.  _ How did Sam explain to Balthazar that he might be lonely but at the moment he wasn’t even sure he wanted a relationship. He would however be quite happy with a one night stand and someone making him toast in the morning. 

 “No I’m… I’m alright Balth.” he chuckled, patting his friend on the shoulder as the host swaggered back off in search of more alcohol.

 

Sam however turned away from the alcohol table and pushed himself through all the people, weaving between the ‘dancing’ going on to the beat of the music. Reaching out, he grabbed the handle of the patio doors, sliding them open so he could step out onto the balcony - thanking everything above that Balthazar was filthy rich enough to even have a balcony. Balthy was always a man for the bigger, the better. He’d get one job position and instantly aim for the one above, so once he got himself one flat, he wanted one a few floors higher till he ended up in the penthouse. 

He looked down at the city beneath him, the lights shimmering like reverse stars, below rather than above. Sort of made up for the fact he couldn't see any here due to the light pollution. That was Sam’s least favourite part about living here, in the city. His apartment was good, his job even better, but he did miss being able to look out the window at the stars at night when he couldn’t sleep. Not that he’d give up being a lawyer for Carter and Nicks, god knows he worked hard to get where he was.

He sipped his drink and let the bottom of the glass tap on the balcony rail, the cool night air brushing his face. As he stared down at the cars that were queued up on a main road his mind wandered to gods, specifically minor ones. He'd taken mythology classes at college, and the minor gods had always been his favourite because there were millions of them for the most obscure thing, kinda like the workers at the company he worked at. He snorted as he finished the rum and coke, setting the empty glass down by his feet.  _ Wonder if there's a god of good times. Comes to shitty wannabe raves like this and fixes em up. Or even better takes the bored away to a decent party. _

 

A small thump to his left made him look in case it was one of the drunk girls passing out. No, he wasn’t a fan of them, especially because they could get off their head on the alcopops that Balthazar only bought for the sweet taste, but he wasn’t one to leave someone passed out on a balcony. However, the person who had joined Sam on the balcony wasn't female, nor did Sam recognise their face. He wasn't even wearing many clothes.

The man in question was only clad in red silk - at least they looked like silk - boxers with a paper party hat like the one that could be found inside a Christmas cracker wedged over messy golden hair, and a lollipop stick between his lips. Sam blinked at him as the man groaned, pulling himself into a standing position, hand dragging down his face before he looked up at Sam. His eyes were a bright gold like his hair, shining with glee, as if he knew a joke that Sam didn’t, a joke he  _ wasn’t  _ planning on sharing. 

 "You rang?"

 "Excuse me?" Sam nearly laughed at the smaller man, especially at the way the party hat began to slide down his hair and down onto his forehead, edging over his eyes before it was pushed back up. He leant on the railing casually, as if he hadn’t just seemingly popped into existence by Sam’s side.

 "God of Raves and Good Times?” He waved his hands at Sam as if it would gauge some sort of reaction, recognition from the man. “Oh don't tell me you fucking did this by accident." Sam frowned at him and his tacky Christmas headwear. And his stupid red boxers. How was he not  _ cold  _ just in those? Sam was cold in his jeans and button down, and that was without the sleeves being rolled up.

 "Did what by accident?" The way Sam spoke, it sounded less like a question and more like a statement.  _ What  _ had he done by accident.The man’s expression became one of exasperation and Sam scowled at him. He was making no sense and the man was blaming  _ him  _ for it?

 "Summoned me here! I am a  _ god, _ kiddo, so it’d do you good not to muck me around." the man's - god's - hands were on his hips as he spoke, his tone displayed clear irritation at having to explain himself. 

 "Gods don't exist." Sam said simply, wondering how much fucking rum Balthazar had given him in that rum and coke when he felt a strong hand on his jaw, gripping tightly, dragging him down into a kiss that he wasn't sure he'd opened himself up for but one that he sure as well wasn't complaining about. Just as he was about to return the kiss against those demanding lips, it was over as soon as it had started, his lips cold now in the air compared to the warmth of the other man's lips.

 "That real enough for you, you puppy faced sasquatch?" Sam was speechless as the music inside changed and cheer went around at the choice of song. The man - god - grimaced as he looked in through the windows at the party, then back up at Sam. Sam stared down at him, still not entirely over the fact he’d just been  _ kissed  _ by someone he didn’t even know the name of. His tongue brushed out over his lower lip and instead of tasting the Captain Morgan and coke he was expecting, he found his lip tasting like candy floss and cinnamon whiskey. Not a combination he thought would work but  _ god  _ it did. 

 "Well, as a god, I can tell you right now that... that is not a party. Not a very  _ good  _ one at least. That is the kind of ‘party’ you find sixteen year olds climbing out of their bedroom windows to get to. You? You need more than that. So, what d’ya say. You want a good time tonight?" the  god extended a hand towards Sam, palm up and waiting. Sam looked at the party again through the glass doors, to the crowd of people inside all ‘dancing’ to a song that Sam had never even heard of before nodding at him. 

 

Fuck it. Balthazar would soon be so drunk off his face that he wouldn’t be able to remember his own goddamn name and would find himself waking up in the morning with a sleeping girl either side of him. There was no way in hell he’d notice Sam not being there. If he did? Sam would make up something. He was a lawyer, that was his job. ‘ _ Professional bullshitter’  _ as his brother Dean had put it when he’d told him of his career choice. 

 "Why not." he took the smaller man’s hand, a thrum of energy passing through the palm of his hand and Sam felt his lips part slightly in shock. The guy really was magic.

 “Good choice sasquatch.” Mr God Man linked his left elbow with Sam’s right, right hand raising to the sky, fingers poised and ready to click before he looked up at Sam, a wicked smile on his face. “Oh, and by the way? They call me Gabriel.”

 

_ Snap.  _


	2. The Tunnel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> body shots and jammin tunes

Sam stumbled, hand against a brick wall as they ‘landed’ in a tunnel, throbbing music making the floor seem to rumble underfoot. He squinted, trying to get his eyes to adjust to the darkness when he realised he was wearing different jeans and an old looking t-shirt, not the smart shirt he’d gone to Balthazar’s in. He opened his mouth to ask him, Gabriel, what’d happened but his voicecut off as he noticed Gabriel in a full  _ three piece suit  _ complete with top hat, tails and a cane. Gabriel smirked at him, bumping the rim of the top hat with the back of his hand, tilting it up and out of the way of his golden, all too golden eyes that were impossible not to stare at. 

 “You got a name there kid? You got mine, and trust me when I say a god’s name is one of the most important things to him. Say his name in the right tone and  _ boom  _ he’s yours.” Sam flushed under the flirtatious wink he was given. 

 “Sam.” Gabriel’s eyebrows gave an amused twitch but he said nothing, just gave his cane a twirl and heading off into the dark of the tunnel. Sam followed, hands sliding into the pockets of the jeans. 

 “So uh - Gabriel - why’ve we come to a tunnel?” his voice echoed off the damp walls and he looked around, trying to gauge a feeling of the size of the tunnel, though it was either too dark to see the ceiling, or the ceiling was a lot higher than he thought. 

 “Because Samajam, this tunnel has a light at the end of it.” He flicked his cane up, pointing at a very literal light at the end of the tunnel. “And that light is one of the best parties in the city. Good music, good lighting, and if you’re into it, a good lay is to be found.” Cane now back on the floor, Gabriel did a neat twirl, the outfit vanishing into a shirt like Sam’s and dark jeans, though the top hat stayed firmly on his head. “Remember. Good times, Sammy boy.” 

 

The rave Gabriel had taken them to was ten times better than anything Balthazar could have even dreamed of hosting. The lights were all different colours, reds to blues and golden yellows, pulsing on and off in time to whatever song was playing at the time and the dancers were actually good looking and drinking more than alcoholic sugar. Gabriel pressed a cocktail into Sam’s hands, complete with orange slice and umbrella and Sam laughed, sipping it as Gabriel stood on tiptoes to sip it through a straw. 

 “Oh we’re sharing are we?” Sam shouted over the music, someone behind him moving, pushing him forward and against Gabriel. To stop himself from falling over and taking the shorter man with him, he wrapped an arm around Gabriel’s waist and spun them both round into the crowd of dancers.

 “We are now, especially when you’ve got me pressed against you, Sambo.” Gabriel didn’t even seem to have to raise his voice to be heard and Sam only realised then he really  _ did  _ have Gabriel crushed against his chest, fingers digging into the small of Gabriel’s back. “Not that I’m going to complain of cour-” a chant of  _ SHOTS SHOTS SHOTS  _ cut him off as a group of people in the corner began to whoop, a man dipping his head to lick salt off from a girl’s navel before doing a tequila shot that’d been balanced above her collarbone. Gabriel stopped watching them to look up at Sam, a look in his eyes. 

 “I know what you’re thinking down there, pipsqueak.” Sam moved the glass down for Gabriel to take another sip, watching the straw leave his mouth before finishing his sentence. “And you get me another one of these before we do body shots.”

 

It took three more cocktails to convince Sam to take off the t-shirt Gabriel had put on him, causing the entire crowd to cheer again at the sight of Sam shirtless. Gabriel felt his mouth begin to water at the sight, no surprises there, and he put both palms on the hot skin, pushing Sam backwards to lay on the table, spread out and waiting.  _ Dear a god that isn’t me, please have mercy, for I am about to sin so hard.  _ He grabbed the rock salt that was waiting, pouring a little into his hand before making a small line of it along Sam’s chest, then placing the shot glass at the end. 

 “Three…” the crowd, acting like cheerleaders to the event, shouted and Gabriel ran his hands up over Sam’s knees to his thighs, squeezing slightly before pushing them open so he could step between them, leaning over Sam. Sam’s mouth went dry at the touch and he willingly let Gabriel take the control of the situation, eyes closing against the bright lights that were flashing. At least, they were closed for a second before he felt a hand patting his cheek. 

 “Eyes open Samaroo, want you to watch.” Gabriel’s voice purred in his ear and his eyes snapped open again, looking down at the man with the parted lips and the tongue that was just about poking from his mouth. The overwhelming urge to kiss Gabriel ran through Sam then and he nearly did, but Gabriel placed his fingertips on the rim of the shot glass and pushed a little, the cold glass against Sam’s hot skin. Right. Shots. 

Breathing carefully to not spill the shot as Gabriel filled it, Sam bit his lower lip, watching the literal  _ god  _ lean over him, smoldering golden eyes watching Sam’s soft hazel ones. 

 “Two!” Sam could feel Gabriel’s breath against his stomach as he leant down a little more, the corner of his lips tweaking slightly into a grin as the number one was shouted. Gabriel’s tongue immediately swept over his chest, tip curling slightly as he licked up the salt, teeth catching on the glass as he picked it up and swallowed the salt and tequila in one go. Sam tried to bite back the low groan that left him at the feeling of Gabriel’s tongue against him, he  _ really  _ tried, but not hard enough because judging by the look on Gabriel’s face, he’d heard it. 

 

 “Another, Samaram?” Gabriel’s voice was soft, and the look in his eyes… the only thing Sam could compare that look to was hunger. Pure hunger. Sam nodded. The second shot should have been easier for him to bear, he’d had Gabriel’s tongue against him once, so the second time shouldn’t have been so intense. But it was. If it hadn’t been for the glass in the centre of his chest Sam would have arched up to the hot wet stripe that was being licked up his chest, and if they hadn’t got a crowd around them, his hands would have tangled in Gabriel’s hair and forced his head  _ lower. _ Cursing everything that people were still watching he pushed himself into a sitting position and grabbed the shot glass from Gabriel, flipping the god over so he was the one with his back on the alcohol-sticky table. 

 “Your turn.” he growled, glass between his teeth and hands up Gabriel’s shirt, shoving the fabric out of his way. Gabriel wriggled a little to get out of the shirt, tossing it onto a lonely chair to the side, reclining with his hands behind his head.

“Oh Sammers, gettin’ rough and tumble now are we?” The god purred at him as Sam sprinkled the salt onto his chest, the shot glass accompanying it right in the centre. 

 “Not like you mind.” Sam’s retort came quick and fast, not even waiting for the reply before he swept his tongue over the salt and took the shot, watching Gabriel arch his back the second the glass was lifted from his skin. Sam swallowed the drink, a small dribble of it missing his mouth due to the awkward way he’d picked up the glass. Gabriel sat up, hands not needed as leverage and his thumb stroked across Sam’s chin, wiping the drop off. They made eye contact as Gabriel licked the liquid from his thumb and Sam had never wanted to kiss someone more.

 “Hey barkeep, can we get two Blowjobs over here?” Gabriel suddenly called, clicking his fingers at a man who looked more like a teenager behind the makeshift bar. The man nodded, hands vanishing under the counter instantly.

 “I’m sorry- get a  _ what _ ?” Sam stuttered, the confidence from his face gone as Gabriel called for the very thing he’d been hoping to get Gabriel to do in the near future. 

 “A blowjob Sampop, s’a very simple concept.” with a swing of his leg and a neat jump Gabriel was on the floor and heading for the bar, leaving Sam to catch up. He pointed at the barman who was pouring various drinks into the same shot glass. “You get Baileys… Kahlua… and Amaretto…” he reeled off as each was poured into the small glass. “Before it’s topped off with food of the gods.” The barman squirted whipped cream onto the top and Gabriel winked at Sam. “Literally.” Sam stared at the layered drink, reaching for a glass. Gabriel frowned and grabbed his wrist. “Nah uh, you don’t use your hands.” To demonstrate, Gabriel bent over the bar and licked the whipped cream from the top of the drink before picking the glass up with his teeth and tilting his head back, necking the shot. Sam watched before doing the same, swallowing the creamy alcohol with a slight grimace. He wasn’t one for those kind of drinks, he took after his brother and father by preferring whiskey and beer, though he’d drink anything if it was offered and he wasn’t paying. It was only as he looked back at Gabriel in a ‘ _ Yeah? What other sexual innuendo drinks you got for me to drink?’  _ kind of way that he noticed the whipped cream on the corner of his mouth that he hadn’t seemed to have noticed. Sam considered telling him. ‘ _ Hey man, you got whipped cream on your face.’  _ Or.  _ Or.  _

Sam leant forward, one hand cupping the back of Gabriel’s head as he drew the god in for a slow kiss, one that started off deep and only got deeper as the other man realised what was happening, lips parting willingly beneath Sam’s. Sam let out a soft moan as he felt Gabriel’s hands run through his hair, giving it a slight tug that he wasn’t sure was intentional or not. Either way, he enjoyed the action and dropped his hand from Gabriel’s hair to his hips, picking him up and tugging him onto Sam’s lap despite the fact the bar stools weren’t really built for two fully grown drunk men to make out on. It worked out though, Gabriel’s legs around Sam’s waist, his tongue against Sam’s bottom lip and Sam opening his mouth for Gabriel to let him in. 

 

He tasted like he had done back on the balcony, candy floss and cinnamon, though now there was a distinct fruity twist that must have come from the cocktails, the creamy taste of the Baileys and a distinct after sting of salt from the body shots. Every flavour individually was an experience but them all blending together and being tasted off Gabriel’s tongue was another thing entirely and Sam found himself completely breathless, ignoring the elated whoop that soared through the rest of the dancers as they noticed. Gabriel was the one to break the kiss, teeth dragging across Sam’s bottom lip, gazes meeting, both of them looking as lustful as the other. 

 “Dance with me?” Gabriel whispered, lips brushing Sam’s with every movement and Sam made a noise of agreement, letting Gabriel slide off his lap and took his hands, dragging him back into the crowd. Most of the men were shirtless now and it did occur to Sam for a second to wonder why when suddenly he was covered in a cold heavy liquid that glowed radiantly under the UV lights of the rave. “S’Paint Night.” Gabriel winked and he let go of Sam’s hands, smearing the orange paint over Sam’s shoulders. Sam stared at the way it lit up and he grinned, watching the electric blue spill from a bucket and splatter across Gabriel’s face, dotting his cheeks and nose. The blue in contrast to the  _ glow  _ of the gold in his eyes was too much for Sam who leant down to kiss him again, hands cupping his face and smudging the paint across his skin. More landed on Sam’s back and in his hair, not that he was even paying attention to anything that wasn’t the golden haired god that he was making out with. 

 

Gabriel’s fingers fanned out as he pushed his hands over Sam’s ribs and around his back, dragging through the paint and creating some very distinct lines through it, eyes closed as he rose up on tiptoes as high as he could to return the kiss, letting Sam take the charge of it. The taller man was going to single handedly give Gabriel a fucking size kink if he kept grabbing at his face and hips like he was, though Gabriel was in no position to complain at this present moment. Gabriel crushed himself against Sam, the paint warming up between them and his hands roamed up to Sam’s hair, tangling it and giving it a rough tug, the other man letting out a choked groan.  _ Bingo.  _

A girl, also coated in paint came up behind Sam and placed her hands on his hips making Sam draw in a surprised gasp. Gabriel stopped the kiss in an instant, eyes  _ flashing  _ gold at her as he let out a  _ growl.  _ Her hands left Sam’s hips straight away, looking at Gabriel warily before she moved backwards into the bumping and grinding crowd. 

 “Outside, now.” Gabriel rasped, grabbing onto the hem of Sam’s trousers, half-dragging him out of the crowd and into the chill of the tunnel expanse, the music sounding more muffled and echoey now. 

 “Gabri-” Sam was cut off as the shorter man dragged Sam’s hips against his own, rising on the tips of his toes to kiss him again, Sam acting on impulse, hands gripping onto Gabriel’s own hips. “Fuck.” he panted as the kiss broke apart for a second, allowing them both to breathe, hot exhales mixing before they kissed again, Sam moaning into Gabriel’s mouth. 

 “Home, kid.” Gabriel managed to say, letting go of one of Sam’s hips, two fingers pressing to his temple. “Think of your living room, now.” Sam did as he was told without questioning it, deciding that if Gabriel was ordering him around in that tone of voice it was best to just oblige. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> find me on tumblr @synergygabriel


	3. Adios Sexual Tension

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> bow chicka woww wowww

Sam’s living room hadn’t had people in it for many hours when Gabriel zapped both panting men into it and the chill sent goosebumps up Sam’s spine.

 “Fuck it’s cold in-” it was Sam’s turn to cut Gabriel off as he shoved the man to the wall with a slight thump, hands travelling across the tacky paint decorating his chest and hips. Hands going further down than before, they snaked behind Gabriel to grope his ass, giving it a hard squeeze. Gabriel groaned into Sam’s mouth, knees giving way a little. Yep. Definitely given him a fucking size kink. Feeling the slight change in weight against his hands, Sam let them drop slightly more to the back of Gabriel’s thighs, lifting him up enough he could tuck his whole forearm under him. Gabriel reacted as he’d done on the bar stool, legs around Sam’s waist, clinging tight enough Sam didn’t even need to hold him and he could press one paint-covered palm to the wall beside Gabriel’s hips, grinding forward against him. 

 “Oh dear god.” Sam groaned, tugging on Gabriel’s bottom lip with his teeth. 

 “You rang?” Sam nearly dropped Gabriel at the pure cheek of the joke and he ground against the god again, thoroughly enjoying the noise it dragged from the non-human. Non-human. The fact that Sam could reduce him to the most instinctive of noises with a simple roll of his hips blew his mind, but he wasn’t going to complain, not when the god he’d accidentally summoned was fucking gorgeous, and seemingly as desperate as him. 

 “Enough of the snark, wanna hear every moan you can make.” Sam’s voice was wrecked from the shouting at the rave, but he was still able to form audible words. 

 “Oh really Sam? You wanna control a god, do you?” There was an edge to his voice that made Sam swallow before going to speak again, words failing him as he made a loud groaning noise, heat pooling inside of him. 

 “What the…”

 “I’m a  _ god  _ Sam, if I wanted you on your knees looking up at me, jaw slack, I’d have it.” Gabriel’s voice was crooning and Sam shuddered a little, looking at the man he was pinning to the wall. Sam knew he was right, and in a way he wanted him to prove it, but in another way he wanted to keep him against his chest where he could touch him. “I felt that.” Gabriel whispered, winking again before surging forward to kiss Sam once more, hands tangling in the human’s paint filled hair and deepening it, holding him closer, using his grip on Sam’s hips to grind against him. “You’d love for me to overpower you, wouldn’t you.” Sam nearly whimpered.  _ Nearly.  _ “Wonder how fast I could get you to  _ scream- _ ” That time Sam did whimper, hips rutting up into Gabriel’s again. “Oh you like the sound of that huh?” Sam’s nod seemed like it was held back and Gabriel wiped his hand over Sam’s cheek, the paint there blending into a mess. “Or do you just wanna fuck me hard and dirty against this wall?” 

 

A growl from Sam that resonated through Gabriel too gave him the answer and Gabriel snapped his fingers, both of them instantly naked without having to move. 

 “Cheating.” Sam rumbled, much to the amusement of Gabriel. 

 “You thought I’d let you take those hands off me, huh? Think again Sammers. I want those babies on me the  _ whole. Damn. Time. _ ” Sam’s hips rocked forward again, but this time skin on skin was a more electrifying sensation and he gasped, nails digging into Gabriel’s hips. The god arched into the touch and dragged Sam’s mouth back to his for a kiss that this time neither of them allowed to break. One of Sam’s hands tangled in the golden mess of hair on Gabriel’s head, the other holding him to the wall and Gabriel’s fingers fumbled in a snap again, the words  _ god powers, self prep, fuck me already  _ being passed from his lips to Sam’s. Sam didn’t hesitate to obey the demanding god, shifting him slightly to press against his entrance, finding it already lubed and easy to ease himself into - he hadn’t been joking about the whole self prep thing. 

 

Easing into Gabriel was one of the most perfect things that Sam could ever imagine doing. The sheer warmth and tightness of the deity around him was enough to spark off a millions volts in his mind, let alone the way that Gabriel was a little fucking shit and refused to have Sam push in slowly, oh no, Gabriel pushed himself down onto Sam like he  _ needed  _ it. 

 “Oh god Sam you’re  _ huge. _ ” Gabriel muttered, burying his face into Sam’s shoulder in what at first was cute and a rather submissive gesture before Gabriel bit him hard, tongue flickering on the skin, sucking a purple mark onto his neck. “Now fuck me like you mean it.”

Sam obliged by pulling nearly all the way out so it was just the tip inside before slamming his hips back upwards, Gabriel crying out and throwing his head back and to the side. Finding a spot of his neck that wasn’t lathered in the paint Sam bit down, hips finding a brutal rhythm, fingers digging in hard enough to leave bruises, and teeth  _ definitely  _ marking the god as his own, even if for a few more minutes. Gabriel gave Sam’s hair a tug, a whine leaving the taller man and their lips were crushed together in a kiss that was more gasping for air and the occasional yelp from Gabriel. Sam ground up against Gabriel hard, name being pushed out on his next exhale and Gabriel’s eyelashes fluttered slightly, a needy whine leaving him. Huh. 

 

 “Gabriel.” Sam breathed against his lips, feeling the god clench around him. “Gabriel.  _ Gabriel. _ ” Each whisper of his name became more and more intentional and each one drew a more interesting reaction from the god, who was now flushing with arousal down his cheeks, neck and chest, the tips of his ears scarlet, and lower lip swollen from the rough kissing. As Sam admired the man he was fucking into, he remembered. ‘ _ Trust me when I say a god’s name is one of the most important things to him. Say his name in the right tone and boom he’s yours.’  _ The concept now dawning on him, Sam kissed Gabriel again, lips moving to whisper his name into Gabriel’s own mouth, slowing the pace down but picking up on the sheer strength behind each thrust and the harder he went the less he was able to say Gabriel’s name until his lips were just moving in the mere shape of shape of the word, savouring the way the he could pop his lips at the  _ B _ and the way the  _ L  _ rolled off of his tongue _.  _ His chest heaved in the effort of trying to  _ pray  _ to the creature in his arms as well as keep his hips in a rhythm but he had no chance, his thighs were quivering and he was chasing an orgasm that was threatening to be the best one he’d ever experience. Another soundless ‘ _ Gabriel’  _ against his partner and Gabriel howled in a language Sam didn’t understand but it didn’t matter because that was all he needed to come himself, pressing his forehead to Gabriel’s and teeth gritting as he did. Stars exploded behind closed eyes as his legs turned to jelly and he sank to the floor, keeping Gabriel on him and clutched close, hips weakly rolling upward as his cock jerked a few more times before he was truly done and he let out a breath he hadn’t even realised he’d been holding. 

 

Sam let his eyes slip closed again, only opening them again when his mouth was nudged open by two come-covered fingers adding pressure to his lower lip. Sam obediently let his jaw fall open, licking the essence of Gabriel off the god’s fingers that were magically free of any paint. The come was sweet, though judging from what he could tell from Gabe’s diet from the drinks he’d had, the god had a soft spot for anything packed full of sugar. As the fingers were removed his tongue followed them, giving the pads one last final lick before he looked blankly at Gabriel, mouth open.

 “Good boy.” A purr rose in Sam’s throat and the corners of his lips twitched into a smile at the soft praise and his head fell forward against Gabriel’s shoulder. “Mkay, yes, you sleep now, sweetness, Gabe’s got you.” A small grunt from Sam was a mere acknowledgement he’d heard him and he drifted to sleep, dreams filled with flashes of gold and green. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> btw im sorry for the chapter summaries lmao


	4. Ah. So...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> who needs a walk of shame when you have magic powers

If there was anything that Sam Winchester hated more than waking up with a hangover, it was being woken up by his stupid  _ fucking  _ dubstep radiator when he had a hangover. He swung his legs out of bed and stormed over to it, giving it a swift kick with the heel of his foot which seemed to shut it up for now. He cursed the thing under his breath as he crawled back into his warm bed. He’d tried to fix it.  _ Dean  _ had tried to fix it. Three separate plumbers had tried to fix it. Damn radiator was insistent he have a rave in his bedroom. 

Wait. 

Rave. 

Sitting up so fast his head spun Sam regretted the decision and laid back down with a whimper, dragging his covers over his head. That explained why he had a  _ genuine  _ hangover and none of that cotton mouth bullshit he’d get after one of Balthazar’s. What had he even drunk? The rum and coke, various cocktails, the  _ shots… _ Sam decided ‘a lot’ was a suffice explanation. Letting the pain between his temples die down before he moved again, he shuffled into his kitchen, running himself a glass of water and drinking the whole thing. He racked his brain to try and remember exactly what’d happened the night before. He’d been at Balthazar’s, he’d been  _ bored  _ at Balthazar’s, he’d joked to himself about there being a God of Raves and Good Times, then there  _ was  _ a God of - 

 

Sam scowled at himself. No, he was remembering that wrong. Gods didn’t exist. Especially not gorgeous golden haired gods that took him to underground raves and did shots with him then got covered in paint before demanding they fuck. Sam rummaged in his medicine box for some ibuprofen to work on his headache and he chortled to himself about the fact he’d honestly thought for a minute he’d been at a proper rave with coloured paint everywhere. He found the tablets he’d been looking for and took two before trudging towards the front door to grab his post when something made him stop. 

A handprint on the wall. 

He stared at it, rubbed his eyes viciously, then  _ squinted  _ at it. Still there. He pressed his right hand to it, finding it the same size and shape of his own hand, yet it was done in neon blue and orange, the colours smudged into an odd brown in places but it was still recognisable as a blend of the primary and secondary colour. The handprint was waist height on him, right about where somebody’s hip would be if he were holding them up and making out with them against the wall. Holy  _ shit.  _ He turned back to face the room and decided to throw caution into the wind. 

 “Uh… Gabriel? God of Raves and Good Times? I call to thee to appear unto me in my shitty cold living room on this Sunday morning and explain to me what the fuck happened last night?” Lame attempt at summoning a god but Sam was at a loss of how else to make him show up. After nothing happened Sam decided something must have just gone wrong at Balthazar’s party. Maybe he’d had his drink spiked or something. There was a lot that could have happened. But none of Sam’s ‘memories’ were true. Couldn’t be. 

He shoved his sweats off, leaving them in the middle of the bedroom floor as he entered his bathroom, noting the way there were fleck of neon orange on his face and in his hair, as if he  _ had  _ been covered in it but someone had tried to clean it out for him. He also duly noted an impressive love bite on his neck, one that smarted if he added too much pressure. That’s one bruise we  _ do not poke  _ he ordered himself as he stepped into his shower, the water drowning out the sound of the birds, the radiator, and the small thump from the living room.

 

The small thump was, as it had been the night before, Gabriel, the god of Raves and Good Times. Though he currently felt more like the God of Hangovers and Bad Tastes in the Mouth. He squinted at the room he’d been summoned into and nearly groaned as he spotted the tall book shelves against a far wall overflowing with books. Ah, a nerd. Right. This would be… interesting. Gabriel pushed himself into a standing position and rubbed his own sore head as he too wondered what in the name of God (not himself) had happened last night.

He remembered being summoned to a penthouse in the centre of town and the host having no taste in music whatsoever so he took the summoner to The Tunnel on Paint Night to show him a  _ real  _ party. He remembered a lot of alcohol being drunk, and he  _ distinctly  _ remembered getting laid. Everything else? Blank. As he fought to get the guy’s face to come back to the front of his mind he sidled across the room and over to the smallest bookshelf. He ran his fingers over the leather bound of spines of law book over law book, then a cookery book - oh  _ interesting  _ \- a rather well read looking mechanics manual and some battered mythology books. Gabriel cocked an eyebrow at those and looked at the way they had the least amount of dust on them. Frequent reader. Right. 

As he turned away from the bookcase he spotted a photo frame on the mantle piece and he nearly ran to it in an urge to find out who had summoned him. Picking it up, his eyes went wide in shock and he nearly dropped the damn thing. Huge guy, chestnut hair, soft hazel eyes - this was the guy he’d been summoned by the night before. Why’d he want him back now at nine in the morning? Gabriel put the picture frame down carefully and turned away from that wall to look into the whole of the room. What was his name again? 

_ Bollocks.  _

That was when he heard the sound of the running water. Ah. That explained where tall, tanned and gorgeous was. He’d learnt from last time something like this had happened that he shouldn’t just waltz into the bathroom and step into the shower. So, he did something very casual and human. He made himself a sandwich. Not from Sam’s kitchen - that would be rude. He just waved his hand and summoned one up before flopping onto Sam’s sofa, waiting for him to come back out and explain why the hell he’d summoned him. 

 

Sam took a lot longer than he usually would in the shower. His shoulders ached from use and there was still some paint in his hair from the previous night. When he did leave the shower though, he felt more relaxed and awake. He dropped the towel from around his waist as he redressed himself in clean sweats, leaving one towel around his neck as he left the bedroom to make himself breakfast. 

 “Who the  _ fuck  _ are y-” he started at the sight of a stranger lounging on his sofa when he recognised the face. “Oh.  _ Oh.  _ Gabriel.” the god quirked an eyebrow at him, eyes taking back in the sight of the man in front of him as he licked some crumbs from his thumb. 

 “Ah, Sam! Nice of you to join me. Now, what in fucks name do you want from me at nine in the morning?” Gabriel praised himself inwardly for, in the time it had taken for Sam to get out the shower, he’d remembered Sam’s name. Okay no he hadn’t, he’d seen Sam’s wallet on the kitchen counter and taken a peek at the driver’s license in it. Sam headed into the kitchen, opening his bread bin. 

 “I was - mainly wondering what happened last night, and if you were even  _ real,  _ I mean, a god of Raves and Good Times? Is that even a legit thing to be a god in?”

Sam felt the glare he was being given as he made his sandwich, and knew was Gabriel waiting for him to turn around before he answered.

 “It’s perfectly legitimate, thank you very much.” Venom dripped from his voice and Sam realised he’d fucked up. He didn’t like that tone, he’d heard it too many times on too many people and he knew it wasn’t a good thing. “And as for what happened? I whisked you away to the land of fun, we had a good time, we came back here and had some  _ more  _ of a good time, before you fell asleep and I flitted back to my own realm. But then you call me up again at some stupid damn hour of the morning and bring me back here.” The tone was dropped as he carried on speaking and Sam relaxed, letting the slight panic leave him again. He checked his watch, poking the kettle to life and holding up a mug. 

 “Coffee?” 

 “Wh- yeah. Yeah, sounds good.” Gabriel couldn’t help but find it a little funny how Sam was so calm over the whole ‘yeah you screwed a literal god last night and now he’s in your living room’ thing, and now he was offering him coffee like it was nothing. 

 “So. You’re an  _ actual  _ God. With powers and shit.” Sam said from the kitchen, reaching up to grab the sugar from the cupboard. 

 “You betcha. Summon shit, make it go away, change my appearance if needs be, any kind of thing.” He sat up properly, leaning over the back of the sofa to watch Sam. He could just about see him through the doorway into the kitchen and  _ damn,  _ he was gorgeous. The muscles in his back rippled as he moved, making Gabriel stare unabashedly. Sam turned, looking back at Gabriel holding up the newly filled sugar pot. “Yeah three please, and milk.” Sam nodded, turning away from him again. “Y’know, you seem mighty calm for a guy that fucked someone who isn’t even human last night.”

Sam wasn’t too sure how to explain to him that maybe,  _ maybe  _ he didn’t remember too much of the night before. He remembered the warmth and the snug heat of Gabriel, and he thought he could remember something about Gabriel’s name, but other than that? Blank. 

 “Yeah well… I dunno, I’ve wanted a one night stand for a while. Work’s stressful, too stressful really to find a proper relationship.” That last part was a lie, as per usual.

 

Sam had had a girlfriend whilst he was in the business, and for all it was worth he and Madison had survived quite a long relationship, 18 months. Sure it was stressful with the amount of things he needed to do, and all the hard cases he worked on that he just couldn’t talk about with her. They broke up simply because Madison needed to move to Australia for work, and Sam? Sam wasn’t moving halfway across the globe, and long distance relationships, at least that long, weren’t his kind of thing. It was an amicable break up, she still sent him postcards and a few little gifts for his birthday and at Christmas too, gifts he reciprocated to her.

“Straight and narrow boy like you more into one night stands than chocolate boxes and roses? Colour me shocked Samarama, guess it just teaches me not to judge a boy by his books.” Gabriel took the coffee as it was handed to him, sipping it gratefully and avoiding looking at Sam’s hips that were  _ very  _ visible above those baggy sweatpants he was wearing. 

 “I think you know as well as I do I’m not that straight… or narrow.” Gabriel choked on the coffee, putting the cup down so he could cough frantically, looking over at the smug lawyer opposite him. Cheeky  _ fucking  _ bastard.

 

They chatted like that for hours, neither finding any reason to stop. Gabriel was interested in Sam, in the almost flippant way he brushed off talk about family or past relationships, but he spoke at lengths about his work. One thing that they decided was the case, was that Gabriel wasn’t human, and therefore Sam talking to him about the cases at work was synonymous to Sam talking to his dog about it (Gabriel wasn’t too impressed with being compared to a dog), meaning Sam had more to say to Gabriel than he had to say to anyone else. Except Balthazar. Sam never spoke to Balthazar  _ unless  _ it was work though. Speaking to Gabriel made Sam realise exactly how much of his life revolved around Carter and Nicks, and it made him feel odd. Something about it didn’t sit right in his gut. 

When Gabriel finally did leave, Sam stared at his mobile for a few seconds before grabbing it and calling a number he hadn’t called in a while.

 “Singer Automobiles, you break ‘em, we fix ‘em, how can I help?” A gruff voice answered and Sam broke into a smile at the sound of his father-not-father’s voice. 

 “Hey Bobby, it’s Sam.”

“Sam? Everything okay over there, boy? You’re not in hospital or shit are you?” Sam clenched his jaw slightly as the thought occurred to him that he rarely phoned, so of course Bobby was going to jump to conclusions about him being ill. 

 “No, no no I’m fine. I was just wondering when you’re free, I was thinking about coming ‘round, joining you and Dean for dinner and a beer if that’ll be alright? I’ll bring the beer.” He heard a clunk on the other end, like Bobby dropped something, then a rustle and a creak. 

 “DEAN!” Bobby shouted, Sam holding the phone away from his ear as the older man shouted. ‘ _ Warning would have been nice there, Bobby.’  _

 “What?” When Sam managed to barely catch the sound of his brother’s voice he felt a swell of anticipation in his chest, swinging his feet up onto the sofa. This was where his plan could go horribly, horribly wrong. Dean could say no, he didn’t want to see Sam, and that would be the end of that. There was no arguing with Dean once he decided something.

“C’mere.” Footsteps, echoing heavily as if the man producing them was wearing heavy boots, possibly steel toe capped. “Sam’s on the phone. Wants to know if he can come for dinner at some point. Said he’d bring beer.” Silence. 

 “Sure. Sammy’s always welcome. Jus’ make sure to tell him to bring decent beer, not that shitty stuff he probably drinks ‘cause he’s got all the money now he’s a big fancy lawyer eh?” Sam bit back a laugh. Dean must have known he can hear him, and that was likely the point. He felt his chest warm a little as  Dean called him ‘ _ Sammy’, _ obviously there wasn’t as much bad blood there as he thought there was. 

 “Will do Dean, will do.” He hung up once Bobby said goodbye, throwing his phone down by his feet, staring at it as the screen went black. Well that hadn’t gone as he’d expected.

 

_  “What do you mean you’re going to college?” Dean’s voice was a harsh whisper as he stood between Sam and the bedroom door. Sam’s hand was clenched around his Stanford acceptation letter, jaw set. He knew he’d need to fight for this, he’d known since he decided to apply, but Dean wasn’t the one he thought he’d need to fight. _

_  “I mean I’m going to college to study Law, Dean. I don’t wanna work here with Dad and-” _

_  “And me. Is that it? You don’t want to be around your brother and your old man so you’re gonna run away to college. Run away to people who aren’t gonna understa-” _

_ “Plenty of people will understand that Mum died, Dean!” Sam snapped, screwing the paper up and shoving it in his pocket. “People understand death! People understand it, they give condolences, and they move on. Just because Dad hasn’t been able to get over it doesn’t mean that the rest of the world can’t fucking understand how death works. I’m not a kid Dean, I’m 18, I can look after myself. I don’t need you to stand here and lecture me on how this is a bad idea. I know it can go wrong. I get it. And if it does, I’ll deal with it. But until then… let me grow up.” The eye contact between them lasted for seconds, but it felt like an eternity.  _

_  “Go. Before Dad comes home.” Dean side stepped the door, and Sam left with only a backpack of clothes to his name. _

_ They didn’t speak for 3 years. Sam was nearly done with his degree by then, head down, nose in a book. He’d had a girlfriend, an apartment, he was going to propose, and it’d been the best decision of his life. Then the fire happened. His whole building went up in golden orange flames, ones that had started in his apartment. Jessica hadn’t made it out. He was homeless then, again, with nothing but his messenger bag and his wallet. He went into a store in town, bought himself some cheap clothes and a new backpack and began to live in the school library. He had a gym membership he used, making use of the showers there, working his job in the local corner shop for a low wage, then falling asleep with his face in a textbook to repeat the cycle at 7am the next day. Fortunately he only needed to do this for two weeks before another Law major by the name of Balthazar took pity on him, letting him move in. Sam and Balthazar got on amazingly well, graduating together, then both finding jobs at the same company.  _

 

As he looked at his bookcase Sam realised how Gabriel got the impression he was always on the straight and narrow path. Law book after law book, then a few World War Two novels, a book on ASL and a battered copy of ‘Teach Yourself French in Three Months’. Didn’t seem like the bookshelf of a boy born to a mechanic and a school teacher, brought up solely by the mechanic. He pulled out the only mechanic book he had, a battered copy of a Chevy repair manual, the only thing of his Dad’s that he owned. Dean had given him it at the wake, demanding Sam take it because Dean had everything else from Dad, so he didn’t need the outdated manual. Sam rifled through the pages, spotting his Dad’s handwriting in a few places in blue biro, mostly his own notes on the best way to clean  _ x  _ part of the machine, or the cheapest place to order  _ y.  _ Placing it back on the shelf he went back into his bedroom to change into jeans and a shirt, shrugging on a light jacket. If he left now he could get there with plenty of time to spare to catch up on life. 

 


	5. Three At the Table

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> dinner and BANTER

Bobby answered the door.

 “Sam!” He grabbed Sam by the front of his jacket, pulling him into a hug, slapping his hand on Sam’s back making the taller man cough and laugh at the same time. 

 “Hey there Bobby, s’like you missed me or something.” He teased, though judging by the look in Bobby’s eye he’d struck gold.

 “I have done, you numbskull. What’d you think, I didn’t wanna see you because you scarpered off to college and got yourself a good job? No. I jus’ wanna see you happy, and if you’re happy, then I don’t care if you’re puttin’ bad guys behind bars or strippin’ in the local club gettin’ 20s shoved into your thong.” Sam coughed again, going a violent red as Bobby mentioned stripping. Thankfully Bobby wasn’t looking at him then and was busying himself with wiping his hands with a rag Sam didn’t think was capable of cleaning anything up. The last thing he wanted was for Bobby to ask him why he seemed to embarrassed about the mention of stripping, because other than the truth (Sam… really needed money for a little while) he didn’t have a good enough answer for him.

“Yeah well… I’m gonna stick to bad guys. Much less scary than hen parties.” He handed Bobby the crate of beer, turning his head as Dean walked down the stairs with those same thumping footsteps he’d heard down the phone, though something wasn’t right about the way Dean was walking with his left leg. 

 “Sammy! Been too long, take your coat off dumbass. I’m cooking burgers.” Dean was clean shaven, a smile on his face and water in his hair, obviously fresh from washing his face.

 “Thank god, I have missed your cooking.” He sighed into Dean’s shoulder as the brothers embraced before watching the older Winchester walk into the kitchen.  _ Limping.  _ “Dean, are you alright? You’re limping.” Sam trailed after Dean, falling into a chair at the table, taking a cold beer from the fridge when it was handed to him. 

 “Hm? Oh, yeah I jus’ had a car fall on it a few months ago. Broke nastily so I’m not supposed to put too much weight on it. Course that doesn’t stop me from workin’, does it Bobby?”

 “No, it doesn’t, even though I keep telling you that you should take a day off once in awhile so you don’t bugger your leg up even more, you idjit.” He grumbled, tilting the rim of his cap backwards to regard the two brothers. If you had simply described their personalities to Bobby then he would never have guessed that they were related, not with Dean being the brash and bold man he was with the urge to fix cars, trucks, vans, anything with a motor that was broken, and Sam being more studious and quiet. Then again he also would have never have guessed that all the arguments he heard stood outside the old Winchester house weren’t between Dean and John, the two hotheads under the same roof, but Sam and John because Sam wanted to be  _ different.  _

“Anyway. Sam, how’s Madison? Alison? Whatever that chick’s name was.” Dean asked, ripping open a packet of mince. Sam swilled his drink around his mouth for a second before swallowing to answer. 

 “She moved away. To Australia. So we broke up.” He looked from Bobby to Dean, neither offering much with their expressions.

 “Shame. She was nice. Had respect for what we did as well as what you did. Not found anyone else? No hot women or men comin’ into your life?” Sam rolled his eyes at Dean’s back, finding himself receiving the middle finger in return. “Big brother’s got eyes on the back of their head Sammy.”

“No, there’s no one. No one consistent. A one night stand here and there but y’know. My line of work it’s hard to find someone.” He shrugged, and Dean looked over his shoulder at Sam with a crooked eyebrow. 

 “Wha’s that mean?”   
 “I mean, you can come in from the garage and tell Bobby all about the fucked spark plugs, or the broken suspension you need to replace, or the carburetor that’s gone bust, but I can’t come home and tell someone about Mrs Langley with her million pound fortune all in the form of light blue diamonds that was supposedly stolen by Mr Swanson and his fingerprints were found at the scene.” He waved his bottle as he spoke, gesturing at all three of them, then taking another swig. This was why he liked talking to Gabriel earlier on that day. Being not of this world and not caring about the legal affairs of humans, he could tell Gabriel everything and anything about his cases, get all the stress and hassle of his chest about the most recent case (which wasn’t the imaginary Mrs Langley with her diamonds.) As he thought of the other man, his phone buzzed.

 

_ [To Sam; From Unknown]: hey there kiddo, bet u cant guess who ;) and before u ask, god, remember??? _

_ [To Unknown; From Sam]: Gabriel?? _

_ [To Sam; From Unknown]: bingo! :D what u up to tonight? Theres another party in the tunnel if ur interested? _

_ [To Gabriel; From Sam]: cant, at my brothers. Gettin the 3rd degree on who im dating :/ _

_ [To Sam; From Gabriel]: want me to show up ;) _

_ [To Gabriel; from Sam]: to be honest? Im not sure if dean would even be cool me “dating” a guy. I mean he mentioned it but idk, ive never mentioned not being straight to him before _

_ [To Sam; From Gabriel]: listen kid i have jackshit else to do if if u speak to him and get ur crisis out the way and want this hot piece of ass to show up then holla at me okay?  _

_ [To Gabriel; From Sam]: okay. Thanks _

_ [To Sam; From Gabriel]: ur welcome sweetcheeks xoxo _

 

Sam kept looking at his phone for a few seconds before Dean whistled, waving a hand. 

 “Not dating anyone he says, but then he goes and stares at his phone for ages. Something tells me Sam was meant to go on a hot date tonight, but bailed for us.” Dean wiggled his eyebrows and Sam scowled.    
 “I didn’t blow him off, he texted me asking if I wanted to go out, but I can’t so-”

 “Invite him round! I’ll be glad to meet your new squeeze.” Sam looked from his phone to Dean. He  _ could  _ invite Gabriel round, he  _ could  _ very easily. He excused himself into the hallway to make a phone call, dialling the number Gabriel texted him from. 

 “This is Gabe.” 

 “Hey, you know you said about you showing up? Could you do so in like an hour, hour and  half? Gotta-” he lowered his voice a little so Dean and Bobby couldn’t hear him. “Make it seem like you don’t just snap your fingers and appear somewhere.” He heard Gabriel make a noise on the other end followed by a rustle which sounded like the other man was nodding his head even though Sam couldn’t see him. 

 “Alright kiddo. Two hours and 27 seconds and I’ll be there.” 

 

Gabriel was punctual, to the second. (Sam totally counted.) Sam was also the one to open the door, running a nervous hand through his hair. Gabriel strode through in a purple shirt under a striped sweater and neat black jeans, making it look like he was trying to make a good impression. 

 “Behave.” Sam hissed in his ear as he bent down to graze a kiss to the shell of his ear. If they were gonna pretend to be dating he needed to make it believable after all. 

 “Gotcha.” Gabriel took of his coat, hanging it up. Sam thanked his lucky stars no one else was in the hallway as Gabriel’s hand came out the sleeve of his coat holding a bunch of flowers. 

 “That means  _ no  _ cheap magic tricks.” He hissed, Gabriel rolling his eyes and batting Sam on the cheek. 

 “Yeah but these aren’t fake magician flowers. 100% real tulips Samalam.” As Gabriel entered the kitchen Sam had the sudden thought of  _ who the hell is he planning on giving those flowers to. _

 “You must be… Gabriel?” Dean rubbed his hands on his apron before shaking the hand not holding the tulips, glancing at the flowers suspiciously. 

 “In the flesh. A good TV show that incidentally. Now, I brought flowers because I didn’t know what else to bring, because from what I gathered from Samwise, you guys aren’t the wine and champagne kind of people.” Bobby scoffed a laugh as he rescued a dusty crystal vase from the back of a cupboard. 

 “They’re fine.” Sam looked up at Bobby as he spoke, catching the wistfulness in his eyes. It struck Sam that Bobby probably hadn’t had any flowers in the house for years, not since Karen died at least, and if he remembered rightly, tulips were her favourite. 

 

Gabriel caught it too. The flash of sadness in the old man’s eyes as he saw the flowers in his hand. As he handed them over their fingers brushed and he clicked his magic slightly, filling Bobby’s mind with whatever happy imagery would work best to take away the shadow in his eyes. Almost as he began, he stopped, letting Bobby just take the flowers and put them in the vase, each flower bobbing slightly before settling. 

Gabriel next noticed it as he came back in from the bathroom. Standing in the doorway looking at the three men, he could have sworn if it had been a cartoon there would have been a dark cloud hanging over each of their heads. Making himself invisible - he’d make up an excuse about being in the bathroom for ages, he leant against the door frame. They talked in hushed voices, beer bottle in the left hand and then the right, being passed from one to the other. Hands gestured as their lips moved, but only the hand with the bottle in. Dean looked at Sam, who looked away from the look, face turned to the table. Something wasn’t right between those two. Something had happened there, something that Dean felt guilt for, and Sam harboured. Gabriel ran his tongue over the tip of one of his canine teeth, thinking about the brothers in front of him. The ‘father’, the son, and the ghost son. It was a bad idea to get attached. 

But Gabriel did anyway.


	6. Red and Black

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> who needs vanilla ice cream when it can be kiNK FLAVOURED

  “Sam!” Balthazar swung the door to his office open and Sam groaned inwardly as he usually did when his work was interrupted by the Englishman. Gabriel huffed, clicking his fingers to leave the room where he’d been watching from the corner. He had been trying for a while to work out exactly what had happened between the two Winchesters, either by watching Sam and his daily life to see if there was something he avoided doing, like driving to hint at a car accident or drinking, suggesting alcohol related issues. But Sam didn’t seem to avoid doing anything except eat anything super unhealthy. As much as Gabriel wanted to know what was going on, he didn’t want to use his godly powers to dig around for it. Sam seemed to trust him, and he didn’t want to break that. 

The same day, in the evening. Sam cleared his throat though he didn’t need it to summon Gabriel.

_ Hey, Gabriel?  _

_ Wanna come hang out tonight like usual? _

_ If you’re busy then y’know, don’t worry but _

_ offer’s open  _

Appearing in the kitchen, Gabriel hooked his fingers around the stems of two wine glasses, the rims clinking together. 

 “Red or white, Sammy boy?”

 “Neither. Beer. Please.” Gabriel nodded quickly, leaving the glasses behind and conjuring up a few bottles of beer. 

 

They ended up sitting at Sam’s kitchen table. It’d become a common occurrence on Friday nights now, Gabriel would come without being called just before Sam would come home from work and prepare some unholy form of alcohol and they’d drink till drunk, sometimes just for a laugh and other times they’d end up pushing the bottles from the table to fuck against it. Gabriel was a little more on edge at the beginning of the night than usual. It was odd that Sam called him like that, asking if he still wanted to come round even though he had nothing else to do. Something wasn’t right there.

As he looked at Sam over the edge of his drink he took a moment away from worrying about Sam to admire him. Sam could have been a god himself if Gabriel was honest. Sam was strong, strong enough that Gabriel always bottomed, though was never the submissive. Though the more he looked at Sam, the more he thought he could do that, he could let Sam have the whole control.

He liked Sam, little lawyer boy had a lot more going for him than brains and some good eyes, he was also a damn good fuck, and a sweet guy to boot. One Friday he’d come home beating himself up because he’d lost a case where he was so  _ sure _ the guy was guilty, so damn sure, but he’d gotten off and Sam was blaming himself, even though it wasn’t his fault. That night had taken a lot of drinks and a massage from Gabriel to calm him. 

 

Tonight however, they were just drinking and talking about their lives in general. Sam hadn’t seemed to be in the ‘open up and spill your feelings’ mood so Gabriel didn’t pry, he just kept supplying the alcohol and watching Sam drink. 

Sam was telling Gabriel about the courthouses and the way his work was going, and Gabriel was just telling Sam about other times he’d been summoned. 

 “Well, this one time righ’?” Gabriel tilted his glass towards Sam, clinking their glasses together and Sam raised an eyebrow, waving the neck of his bottle in a circle, encouraging him to carry on. “Well, I was at a rave and there was a guy in this skirt. Fuck knows what it was made of but it was like… floaty. Like some kind of fairy skirt or some shit. Like something Tinkerbell would wear you feel me? Now. Right. Okay. He makes this bet with me. About something I can’t even remember. But. I lose this bet. So he says to me. To my  _ face.  _ Put on these high heels. And so, I did. And damn I can make high heels work.” He added a wink to the end as he finished off his beer and put the bottle down with a thump. “Least I wasn’ wearin’ a skirt.” Sam took in the story, using his knowledge of naked Gabriel to know that he could in fact make high heels work. 

 “Think you’d work a skirt pretty good. And I think, ‘f I’m honest, I think I’m gonna need proof about the heels.” He sipped his drink, it going to his head slightly as he spoke. He wasn’t usually that  _ forward  _ with people but something about Gabriel made him want to be. Want to demand and take.

 

Gabriel’s fingers snapped before he’d even seen them raise and the next thing he knew Gabriel was stood by the side of the sofa and his jaw dropped. The god was no longer wearing ripped jeans and a soft grey t-shirt with some unheard of band’s name daubed across it. No, now he was wearing a little black dress and dark red high heels. Sam felt his cheeks flush, though he wasn’t sure how that was possible with all his blood running  _ south.  _

 “Well there’s your proof on the heels.” Gabriel flexed his ankle slightly, looking down at the shoes as he did. Sam wasn’t really looking at the footwear, but more at the way they made the muscles in his legs look, the muscles tight, and the way the dress curved over his waist and hips, flaring ever so slightly at the bottom. And there was his proof on the skirt. Dress. Whatever. Sam wasn’t too bothered about the technicalities at this point, all he was bothered about was the way that the top of the dress was clinging to the chest Sam knew was both soft and muscled at the same time, something he decided should be illegal. 

 “Yeah. Yeah there’s my proof on the heels. They look uh- great. Absolutely great Gabriel.” He muttered, rubbing the bridge of his nose.  _ Dammit Gabriel. _

Gabriel stood up straight and smoothed the dress down over his slightly pudgy stomach, scrunching his nose a little at it before giving the hem of the dress a slight tug down his thigh, looking up at Sam innocently. 

 “You uh- don’t think it’s too short, do you? And if ‘m honest, I think they’d look better on your floor.” he asked softly, rubbing his thighs together a little, adding to shy demeanor that Sam knew was a  _ lie.  _ It was the eyelash batting that tipped Sam over into standing up and taking two steps to Gabriel, sweeping him into his arms and bending only slightly to kiss him. Ah, the heels had another bonus to them. Gabriel made a soft noise against Sam’s lips and pressed himself against the still-taller man, hips already grinding against Sam, who tonight? Was having none of it. Sam’s hands slipped down to Gabriel’s hips, pinning them back against the sofa as he ground back, the god’s mouth slipping off the kiss as he groaned at the feeling. 

 “Sam…” he panted, hands skimming the shirt Sam was wearing, the one they both wanted off, now. Sam didn’t move to take it off though, he just wedged a knee between Gabriel’s thighs and pushed them open so he could stand between his legs, the skirt on the dress riding up. “Sam please-”

 “Please what Gabriel? Please fuck you? Because... I think tonight, I’m in charge.” Sam saw the light in Gabriel’s eyes change from a flame to a dull glow and for a second he was worried that he’d said something wrong, that - 

 

 “Please Sam, want you.” Sam heard the  _ plea  _ in Gabriel’s voice and he realised he had in fact said something very,  _ very  _ right. 

 “Oh do you?” Sam took the opportunity to roll his hips firmly on Gabriel’s, the other man shuddering against the movement. 

 “Yesyesyes want you.” Sam wasn’t sure he believed him. Picking Gabriel up easily, ignoring the way his heels slipped off at the angle change, he carried Gabriel into his bedroom and literally threw him onto the bed, watching him bounce for a second on the covers as Sam stood there watching him. 

 “Strip. No magic. Now.” Gabriel fumbled as he obeyed, hand reaching back to grab at the zipper on the back, face screwing up as he just about couldn’t reach it. He let his magic pull it down the few inches he needed to for him to get to get it down the whole length and he slipped out of it, kicking it off so the black fabric pooled at Sam’s feet. “Because as nice,” Sam’s hands were on Gabriel’s hips again, though this time he pulled him up again, flipping him over so his face was against the bedcovers, “as it is to see you in that dress,” one hand cupped Gabriel’s ass, giving it a hard squeeze, making the god whine and push back against him. “it is so much nicer to see you out of it.” 

Gabriel wriggled back against Sam, pressing his chest against the bed, ass up at Sam as he listened to him speak and he gritted his teeth at the teasing. 

 “Better hurry up ‘nd fuck me then before I put it back o-” He was cut off as Sam landed a swift spank across his ass and his hair was yanked. 

 “I don’t think I asked for your input here Gabriel.” Gabriel swallowed  _ hard.  _ Well this was a side of Sam he hadn’t been expecting, but lord he was enjoying it. “Now unless it’s you saying my name, begging me for more, or you telling me to stop? No more words from you.” Gabriel nodded as much as he could with the hand still in his hair. 

 “Yes Sam.”

 “Sir.”

The word was little more than a growl and Gabriel’s cock twitched in response to the word as he nodded again. 

 “Yes Sir.” ‘ _ Better’,  _ Sam thought as he ground against Gabriel’s ass, watching the way the shorter man wriggled his hips backwards a little, into the touch, obviously wanting more. The question however, was if Sam was willing provide that something at that moment. He moved back, another swift slap landing itself on the soft ass and Gabriel keened, forehead pressed against the covers. “More, Sir, please more  _ please. _ ” Sam liked hearing the god beg under him, but he knew there was a sweeter sound, and that was the sound of their hips hitting together. 

 “You want me to prep you? Or are you gonna do it yourself because you’re that needy and desperate for my cock?” Sam purred, removing his own shirt then, laying over Gabriel to press his chest to his partner’s back. “Mmmm? What’ll it be?” Gabriel fumbled to click his fingers to self prep himself and Sam smirked, kissing across his shoulder slowly. “Course it’s the self prep. Just too needy aren’t you, insatiable, need my cock and need it as hard as I can give it.” Gabriel nodded frantically and Sam spanked him again, watching the pale skin dust over with red. 

 “Yes Sir, need your cock Sir, please, please want it.” Gabriel begged as he heard Sam slipping out of the rest of his clothes behind him before he felt those two large hands slide up his body again to his shoulders, pressing him down a little more. 

 “I know you can beg prettier than that Gabriel…” Gabriel wriggled a little, trying to push himself back on Sam but it didn’t work. “Beg me gorgeous, beg me and you’ll get what you want.”

 “Sam, Sam, Sir please, wanna be fucked, want you to fuck me, please, fuck me hard, wanna be fucked by you, wanna scream your name as I come but only when you tell me too Sir.” he pleaded, and before he’d even gotten the final Sir out of his mouth, Sam slid into him in one solid stroke, cutting off the word. One hand wrapped in his hair again, tugging as he thrust in each time, pleased with every tiny whimper he got from Gabriel. He made sure their hips were flush together before slowly grinding deep inside of him, making Gabriel babble in a language that Sam didn’t understand. 

 

Sam did, though, understand the pushing back of his hips and the way Gabriel’s knuckles were white from the way he was holding onto the sheets of Sam’s bed. Sam gave in and let the god have  _ exactly  _ what  he wanted, a rough fucking that made Sam’s chest heave and he leant over Gabriel again, moving his face to the side so Sam could capture Gabriel’s lips in a sloppy kiss as Sam passed over his prostate. Gabriel shouted in pleasure, breaking the kiss to press his face into the bed. 

 “Oh? Like that do you? You filthy little slut, like it when I fuck you this hard huh?” Sam’s voice was barely audible to himself but he knew Gabriel could hear him over the slapping of their hips. Gabriel nodded frantically and Sam gave his hair a rough tug, forcing him to look up at him. “Use your words Gabriel, tell me how much you love it when I fuck you.” Gabriel’s eyes were wide as his jaw fell open, words spilling out. 

 “God, Sir, feels so good, feels so good being filled up by you, please, please want more, want more, want it harder, want it faster, please Sir please--  _ ah! _ ” He cried out even louder as Sam slammed in so it felt like he was going even deeper and the words left Gabriel’s mouth in favour of a high-pitched whine. 

 “What are you Gabriel? Tell Sir what you are.” He purred, watching the way Gabriel seemed to be scrabbling for the right words, the tip of his tongue resting on his bottom lip as he thought about what to say. 

 “‘m yours, ‘m yours Sir, yours to fuck and mark and,” Sam leant back to land a hard spank on the curve of Gabriel’s ass, the god arching beneath him. _Spank._

 “That’s  _ right  _ Gabriel, good boy.” Sam’s praise made Gabriel whimper and go pliant against Sam as his hair was tugged on again, bringing him to attention. “Would you like to come?” Gabriel nodded as much as he could with Sam’s hand still in his hair. “”Then do.”

 

Gabriel came with what could only be described as a howl, toes curling as he spattered Sam’s bed sheets with white, pleasure shooting through him like lightning. He felt his knees slip on the sheets, legs just spreading wider for Sam as the human came seconds later, thrusts going from smooth movements to jagged before halting. 

 “Holy  _ fuck  _ \- and don’t you dare make the joke.” Sam breathed, face pressed to Gabriel’s shoulder.

 “Me? Make jokes? Who d’you think I am Samster?” They both laughed at that, Gabriel snapping his fingers weakly to clean them up so that Sam could fall onto the bed beside him, long arms making their way around Gabriel’s middle and dragging him down too. “Wha?”

 “Cuddles, Gabriel. Surely they have these where you’re from.” Gabriel went to protest but there was something about the warmth coming from Sam’s body that made him decide that maybe he could stay over… just this once. He rested his hand on top of Sam’s, fingers tracing circles as Sam’s breath slowed down as he fell asleep. Something about earlier still worried Gabriel, made him feel like there was something wrong that Sam just wasn’t letting on to.


	7. Brunch with Balthazar

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> bAGEls

Balthazar, with every intent of the word, was a dick. The worst part was? He  _ knew  _ he was a dick, and would make sure he could optimise the dickishness at any given moment. That chosen moment this time being waltzing in through Sam’s front door on that particular Saturday morning with a paper bag of bagels and a spring in his step.

Sam should have never given Balthazar a key to the apartment. 

 “Sam?” Balthazar stopped in the doorway when he realised Sam wasn’t up. Odd. He was usually an early riser, even on the weekends. Damn boy spent too much time listening to his  _ upstairs  _ brain to even think about… “Oh  _ hello. _ ” Balthazar placed the bagels on the table beside the empty beer bottles, spotting one discarded high heel. “Oh Sammy boy…” Balthazar  _ beamed  _ as he picked up the left shoe, then the right, standing them up and tucking them neatly beside the sofa. In a prime scenario, the lucky girl would walk out first and Balthy could have a little chat. He practically skipped into the kitchen, perching on a stool in there to watch Sam’s bedroom door. 

 

Gabriel was the one who woke up first. Without really thinking, he tugged on a pair of boxers that he could see protruding from a drawer, dragging a hand down his face and yawning. He wandered out of the room, eyes still half closed as he headed toward Sam’s kitchen for a much needed coffee when he stopped, squinting, noticing the man on the stool. He waved both arms in a karate-esque manner, positioned to smack the guy if he came any closer than the stool where he hadn’t moved from.

“And who the  _ fuck  _ are you?” Both said at the same time, their eyes meeting. Gabriel scratched his stomach for a second, right above the waistband before trying a smile at the man he didn’t know in the kitchen who didn’t seen to be a threat.

 “Uh. My name’s Gabriel.” He started, wrapping the throw blanket to wrap around his shoulders. “I spent the night.”

 “I can see that. Bagel?” Balthazar pulled one from the bag and waved it at Gabriel, who nodded. As he headed into the kitchen he carefully stuck his foot out, pushing the high heels to the side, scooting them under the sofa, hoping upon hope that the other man hadn’t seen them. That could lead to some… interesting questions for Sam to answer to. But of course he already had seen them, and he had  _ many  _ questions for Sam when he chose to make himself known to the world. 

 “Yes please. So you are…?” He took the breakfast item, cutting it in half neatly before dropping it into the toaster.

 “Balthazar. I work for Carter and Nicks with Sam.” He gestured to the bedroom door before jingling his keys at Gabriel. “I didn’t break in by the way. Winchester gave me a key.” 

 “And you don’t give him prior warning to you dropping by? What if we’d fucked on the sofa huh?” He teased, buttering the now done bagel, placing it on a small plate he’d grabbed from the cupboard.

 “Not like I’ve not seen a dick before.” Balthazar mumbled, placing the keys on the counter. “He shoulda known I was coming anyway. It’s November 1st.” Gabriel raised an eyebrow quizzically at him. “You two not been dating long then?” Gabriel shook his head before wiggling the hand without the plate in it. 

 “We’re not really dating per say. More like friends with benefits.” 

 “Well, Sam’s friend with benefits-”

 “Gabriel.”   
 “Gabriel. Well, Gabriel, today is November 1st which makes tomorrow November 2nd, the anniversary of his mother’s, and Jess’ death, and Sam is never very good on November 2nd. I came round to make sure he was okay today, and to ask him if he wanted to go out for a meal tomorrow in their honour.” Gabriel froze. Mother and girlfriend? That would explain why he’d seemed so off the past night. Why he’d seemed almost desperate for Gabriel to come round and give him some company. It also explained why he’d been so in need for the control in bed, because twice before at this time of year he’d lost complete control of his life and lost so much that he was striving for complete control now.

  
A mumble of ‘ _ what the fuck’  _ let them both know Sam had entered the room, Balthazar now standing to stretch over the counter, handing Sam a bagel. 

 “I brought brunch. I was wondering, about tomorrow, if you wanted to go for a me-”

 “I’d rather stay here. Thanks Balth. I’ll text you or something so you know I’m okay.”

Sam asked Gabriel to leave in the early hours of the morning. He should have heeded Sam’s request, he knew he should have. But there was something so underlyingly wrong with Sam that he couldn’t just  _ poof  _ into thin air and leave Sam on his own. Sam slept for a few hours before the whining started. Gabriel was sitting in the corner of the room with a book when it did, the quiet noises making him look up from where he was sat at Sam’s bed. After a few minutes the whining turned into a choke, then a sob and then the whole bed creaked as he rolled into a ball. Gabriel dropped the book, hurrying to the bedside and pressing his thumb to Sam’s temple, slipping into his dream. 

 

_ Smoke. Smoke burnt Gabriel’s eyes and lungs, cutting off his breathing before he waved his hand to clear it away from him. He squinted in the darkness of the smoke to spot a man with his back against the wall, staring into the doorway that the smoke was billowing from. He looked like an older version of Dean with salt and pepper hair and a neatly shaved beard, hands flat against the wall as he couldn’t draw his eyes away from the fire in the room in front. Gabriel dodged as something ran down the corridor towards him.  _

_  “Dad, Dad we gotta go now, I got Sammy out, Dad. I did as you asked, please Dad you gotta come-” _

_  “No Dean, I gotta try… I gotta try and save your Mother. Just go back to Sam.” The older man whispered to his son, bending over to kiss the boy’s forehead before turning him away and pushing him by the shoulders down the corridor. Dean stumbled a little before grabbing onto the hand of the toddler who’d reentered after his older brother.  _

_  “We gotta go Sammy, don’t worry, Dad’ll come.” Gabriel saw something that seven year old Dean didn’t; he matchbox fall from the tangles of Sam’s blanket, laying in the shadows of the floor to never be seen again. _

 

_ Flash. Outside. No more fire, a different building entirely. No toddlers, no man with visible age signs. Just a small apartment with a photo of a pretty blonde girl on the wall and a man lighting candles in the bedroom, rose petals strewn across the bed. Gabriel recognised the man as Sam. Young Sam. He reached into his pocket, reminding himself something was in there before waving the match to put it out. His phone buzzed and he nodded at it, opening the fridge to find no milk.  _

_  “Fuck.” He swore under his breath, jamming his phone into his pocket along with his keys and he ran out the house. The pretty girl in the picture came home then, entering the bedroom and her jaw dropped at the sight. She dug in a drawer, bringing out a Victoria’s Secret bag, locking herself in the bathroom. Gabriel watched as a light breeze pushed the airy curtains into the candle nearby. Gabriel watched as the flames caught around the room on the posters and the bed covers, spreading to the bathroom door. He saw the doorknob jump as the girl inside wiggled it to come out but felt the heat. He looked out the window, the flames licking around him, spotting Sam walking down the road, dropping the milk as he saw the smoke from the window. A cough from the bathroom. Gabriel’s eyes watered a little as he knew what was happening. He grabbed the windowsill ledge, throwing himself out of it to land on the pavement by Sam, cupping his cheeks in his hands and pushing magic through him to take him away from the street corner in the drifting snow, to the Tunnel that first night, to the UV lights and non-toxic paint. To a dream Sam could actually enjoy. _

 

Sam woke up with a shuddering gasp, grabbing at Gabriel’s shirt.

 “When did you get here?” He asked weakly, fumbling for the switch on his bedside lamp. 

 “You - I felt the disturbance in your sleep. I came to help.”

 “You were in my dream. Did you see anything?” All Gabriel needed to do was nod to make Sam sob a little, dragging Gabriel closer to him, crushing him to his chest. 

 “I’m sorry Sam. I didn’t… I didn’t want to pry. But you were having nightmares, and I just wanted to help. I’m so sorry.” Sam just shook his head, tears wetting Gabriel’s shirt. 

 “Why are you saying sorry? You were there, you saw. I was- when Mum died, I was 3, and I had the box- the box of matches. Dean was playing with them earlier in the day and Mum took them off him and put them in my room. I didn’t know any better, I played with them too and set my fucking bed on fire, she came into help and got caught. It was my fault. And- and then with Jess. I just wanted it to be romantic, I don’t- I didn’t mean to… I was gonna propose Gabriel. I was. But then I screwed it all up.” Gabriel didn’t know what to say to that. He wanted to tell Sam that it wasn’t his fault, that Jess has closed the bathroom door and gotten trapped in there. He wanted to tell him that it couldn’t be his fault, though he knew for himself that it  _ was  _ in a way. But it was an accident. Accidents  _ happen. _

 “Accidents happen Sam…” He whispered, running his fingers through Sam’s hair. 

 “You’re right, they do, but accidents don’t always fucking kill people. Not on the same day in the same fucking way.”

 

As much as he wished he had the answers for Sam, Gabriel didn’t. He couldn’t even kid himself to offer Sam some half baked lies that would soothe him. Lies didn’t help anyone. He couldn’t bring himself to tell Sam that hey, everything will be okay, because he knew it fucking wouldn’t be. He respected Sam. He didn’t want to string him along with anything. All he could say was that he was there for Sam, and that he wasn’t going anywhere, because that was the truth. He was there for Sam, even when Sam didn’t want him there.

“Is there anything I can do to help?” He asked quietly as Sam seemed to finally start to calm down.

 “I don’ think so. I can’t think of anything at least.” 

 “Cup of tea?”

 “That sounds great.”


	8. Drive

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> shut up and driiive driiiiiiive driiiiiiiiiiiiive

Sam was making coffee on a Thursday morning when it hit him square in the face. He stumbled backwards a little at the sheer force of the realisation and he had to brace himself against the fridge. He stared down at the coffee mug he’d been about to fill, a joke present from Gabriel, a plain white mug with paint speckles flicked across it in neon shades and Sam was sure they’d glow under a UV light. Hell, knowing Gabriel, it’d be paint from The Tunnel itself. He could imagine him there now, the lights dancing in his eyes and his hair bouncing as he danced to the beat, those soft pink lips quirked into a delighted smile.  _ Fuck.  _ Sam shoved at the mug, needing it  _ away  _ as he grabbed another, making the drink in that one instead with shaking hands and a heavy heart. He couldn’t be in  _ love.  _

 

He paced the living room, coffee mug now empty and washed up, sitting on the drying tree as he ran over his current case, tracing and retracing his words around the prosecution, making sure he remembered the evidence and the key facts. Anything, anything to take his mind away from those perfect eyes, those soft kisses Gabriel gave him after se-  _ not helping.  _ He slammed the book laying open on the arm of the sofa shut with a bang, making himself jump. He was too jumpy, too nervous, too all over the place. More coffee? No, no that wouldn’t help. He needed… he needed…

 “Miss me kiddo?” the voice from behind him nearly drew a scream from Sam’s throat as he whirled around only to be faced with the one damn face he was trying desperately to forget. 

 “Hey - what? Why are you  _ here?  _ I didn’t summon-”

 “You don’t need to summon me for me to show up, I’m a god, comes with the title. I can do and go as and where I please. Besides you know this by now, the amount of times I just show up in here.” He steepled his fingers as he sunk into the arm chair on the other side of the room, looking at Sam. “What’s got your panties in a twist Samajack?” Sam waved off the nickname, leaving the room, heading to the kitchen. Busy his hands, busy his mind away from the annoying little shit who was following him. 

 “Nothing, just - hard case coming up.” He grabbed the kettle and the mug he’d used earlier, no way he was using that Jackson Pollock inspired one, filling the kettle up with water. 

 “Oh? Need to release some tension?” Gabriel leant on the counter, waggling his eyebrows at Sam. 

 “No! I mean - no, I have work to do, sorry I’m snappy but…” He put the mug down heavily, squeezing his eyes shut and letting his head fall forward. ‘ _ Fucking fuck.’  _ He opened his eyes sharply as he felt Gabriel’s hands on his shoulders, pressing into the muscle, rubbing out the tension and he felt himself began to relax into - NO. Sam jerked his shoulders away from the soothing touches, side stepping around Gabriel, abandoning the kettle. 

 “Sam. What the  _ fuck  _ is wrong?” Gabriel was demanding an answer, an answer Sam wasn’t sure he could give him. Well, Sam  _ could  _ give him the answer but he wasn’t sure he wanted to. “And don’t  _ bullshit _ me here. I know when shit’s on your mind, remember?” Sam averted his gaze because it was true, Gabriel always knew. He knew when Sam was feeling lonely, or on edge, and he’d show up to help him.

 “I think...I’m in love with you.” He blurted out before he could even dream of stopping himself, staring at the god in front of him with wide and honestly fearful eyes.

 “You’re - you’re  _ what _ ?” That’s when Sam realised that he’d made a grave mistake. There was no reciprocation in Gabriel’s eyes. There was anger, yes, and… fear? “You’re in  _ love  _ with me? Sam, I am a  _ god,  _ infinitely older than you! Why the hell are you in  _ love  _ with  _ me _ ?” Sam flinched and grabbed a cushion from the sofa, pelting it at the shorter deity, who dodged it. 

 “I don’t  _ know  _ okay? But I- I am. And I’m not expecting you to love me back, I’m not, but I can’t have you  _ around  _ anymore if you don’t.” There it was. 

 “Fine. I won’t be around. Go fall in love with someone else Sam, someone who isn’t me.” The words dug into Sam like glass as Gabriel vanished from the room, Sam’s heart in pieces. 

 

Gabriel got back to his rooms and he stumbled out of his teleport, mind rattled. Sam wasn’t - no. Humans weren’t allowed to fall in love with gods. Sure, Castiel did it, but Castiel did a lot of things gods weren’t supposed to do. He made a note that he should go see him at some point, ask for advice as he poured himself a whiskey, swallowing it straight down. He’d never  _ done  _ this before. He’d never needed to sort between the raves and the fun and the  _ people  _ underneath, usually because… because there weren’t people underneath. Gabriel was used to being summoned by people so desperate for a good time that they were virtually empty in any other aspect. But Sam? Sam had so much more to him than just dance moves and big hands. He had his job, friends, a family he didn’t see but cared about. But the idiot chose to fall in love with him. 

Gabriel didn’t go back to see Sam any point. But he did feel like there was something missing. So he tried to fill it in the only way he knew how. He went to the good parties, got so drunk he couldn’t stand and sometimes even woke up in people’s bed, having been too inebriated to leave the night before. He went to the bad parties and livened them up just enough he could put up with them. Some nights however, there weren’t parties, and he jumped around town, sticking up fliers to a place that hadn’t existed before and would never exist again, calling people to go and drown out their own sorrows in alcohol and sex. Was it a particularly good way of dealing with the fact Gabriel couldn’t forget the tall man with soft, sad hazel eyes? No. But did it help, even for a few hours?

Yep. 

 

Sam struggled for those weeks. Mainly because there was a case, a hard case coming, and even Balthazar wasn’t trying to party anymore. He was just working as hard as he could. Sam worked harder though. He barely slept. He closed his eyes and saw visions of golden eyes and laughing faces, and if he managed to fall asleep, all he was able to think was about the times they’d had sex, but also the times they hadn’t. The giggles over glasses of wine as they pretended to be middle class, the way they’d fallen asleep tangled in each other’s limbs in the perfect after sex glow - the first time Gabriel spent the night.

So as Sam always did when he got here, got into the circular rhythm of not enough sleep and too much coffee, he drove. Sam drove and drove until he was far away from the city and he pulled over, climbing out of the car and looking up at the stars above. He slumped back against the car door as he stared up into the expanse, the small silver spots making him feel calm again, made him feel like his place in the universe was secure again. 

 “Why does this alway happen?” he said to the stars, knowing nothing was listening. Sam didn’t need anything to be listening though. “Does Sam Winchester not deserve to be loved? Is that what it is?” He snarled, pushing himself off the car, walking into the middle of the field. “First it’s Mum, then it’s Jess, then  _ Dad. _ Anyone who I love, whether it’s romantic or platonic, is ripped away from me. Why?  _ Why? _ ” He sat down hard in the grass, hands running through his hair in stress. “Why can’t - why am I never allowed to just be  _ happy _ ?”


	9. Starlight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> and the award for the gayest chapter name goes tooooo

Sam made a bad choice. Over his lifetime he had made a lot of them from going out when Jess was alone inside the house to getting drunk with Balthazar and waking up in a hotel room in Prague. Out of all these bad decisions though he was worried that this one, this one would take the metaphorical biscuit. And the biscuit jar along with it.

He put his palms together, lips moving in a silent prayer to Gabriel, trying to get him to show up. His heart told him that it wouldn't work. That the god was well and truly done with him, that no matter how hard he prayed whether he was sober or drunk, in need of divine intervention or not, Gabriel wouldn't come back to him. Sam looked back up at the stars and trailed over them with his gaze, mapping out silver constellations and whispering their names to himself. When he got back after his mother's death, and even worse after Jess' he studied. He studied the stars, memorising names and positions, even the distance some of them were from Earth. It was a distraction that he'd craved and found in the sky. He reached into his pocket, pulling out a packet of cigarettes, trapping one between his teeth. He could nearly  _hear_ Dean scolding him for smoking, but fuck Dean right now. He needed the calming sensation nicotine could give him.

Just when Sam was about to give up all hope of Gabriel coming, he did, dressed in a t shirt and jeans, average attire for him.

 “What do you want?” He snapped, arms folded across his chest. Sam wanted to say something, but nothing seemed to make any sense other than ‘I’m sorry’ or ‘I missed you.’

 “I missed you. I missed you like, a lot, and I didn’t wanna say anything because I know you don’t fucking care about me anymore but at the same time a part of me thinks that y’know, maybe you do care. Maybe you do sit at home, wherever that is for you, and think about me, or miss me, or something. I doubt it but y’know… and I just… I want to be friends. I do, I really do, because you were good company, and I’ve been so fucking _lonely,_ Gabriel. I didn’t have anyone before you came along. Balthazar invited me to those shitty parties but the only one I went to in _months_ was the one I called you at. And I missed you Gabriel, I really did.” 

 

Gabriel was at a complete loss of what to say in return. Standing there, under the stars in a field, Sam just confessed that he cared about Gabriel in such a _human way_ that made Gabriel’s heart hurt and contract. He rubbed his hand over his jaw, scratching at his cheek without knowing how to respond to that. Sam…

Sam made him feel _human._ A feeling he hadn’t felt in how long? He looked at the human, the _mortal_ in front of him who was vulnerable, who was broken in so many ways except the one that mattered. Bad things had happened to Sam and he managed to _keep going_ through it and come out on the other side. He was stronger than any other human that Gabriel had ever seen, and there was nothing else to say about it. He didn’t want Sam. He didn’t _want_ to be in love with him. He didn’t want to be with this human, a mere mortal who had no concept of Gabriel’s expansive presence in life through the millennia. But at the same time, as real as the stars above them, was his love for Sam. He couldn’t do anything else but love the man. He had to love him and the way he was both soft and quiet, but at the same time he was strong and commanding. 

Sam was different. He wore his heart on his sleeve, letting Gabriel see the way it beat, letting him see that in a poetically frustrating way it sped up when he saw Gabriel, and he marvelled in the way Sam could be so open, for he'd never been so open with someone like that before. 

 “Sam…” He whispered, striding forward and falling to his knees in front of Sam. Sam didn’t look up as he did, just watched his jeans come into his line of sight. Gabriel reached out, grabbing Sam’s jaw, dragging his face down to crush their lips together a searing kiss.

They kissed for a long time, neither knew for how long but neither cared either. They were back together. Sam could wrap his arms around Gabriel and press his warm body to Sam’s, and Gabriel could run his hands through Sam’s hair and give it a small tug. They could think about the logistics later, but right now? They had kisses to make up for.

 


End file.
